Yesteryear
by Inks Inc
Summary: "I never saw it ending this way." One-Shot.


**WARNING: Character Death.**

I never saw it ending this way.

Somehow, her eyes are the same. They're the very same. Bright, shimmering and intelligent. We're in our home. The haven we raised our children in, watched our grandchildren thrive in. She rests in my arms and her warmth is as pure as it was all those years ago. Machines beep gently in the background as renowned doctors flit in and out, taking notations and speaking in hushed tones. I ignore them. Teddy and Phoebe are here, they're in the other room with their kids.

Teddy, the proud father to Gracie, seventeen and Liam, fifteen.

Phoebe, the amazing mother to sixteen-year-old twins, Annabelle and Carrie.

My whole world is in this house. My parents are long gone, but I feel them here with me. I've grown sentimental in my old age. You know, I never envisaged my life spanning into my eighties. I didn't want to think that far ahead. I didn't want to think about having to suffer life for such an eternity. But then, Ana came into my life and everything changed. I wanted to live. I wanted to _really_ live, not just exist in expensive clothes and rattle around in expensive homes. We've shared a lifetime together, literally. We've had some mind-blowing highs and some soul-crushing lows. We've laughed and loved and warred and cried.

And it's all to led to this moment.

The goodbye that no-one can prepare for.

At eighty-nine, I cannot say that it's too soon. But even now, as I look at her in her eighty-two-year-old splendour, it _is_ too soon. I have not yet had my fill of her soul, her light, her love. But time is against us now, and we must accept that. We've defied the odds. We made it. We raised two amazing children and watched our grandchildren grow into the beautiful human beings that they are. We've travelled the world together, taken on life by each other's side.

But our travelling and conquering days are behind us now.

We're old.

We're jaded.

We're at the end of our time, the sand is trickling away into nothingness.

I refused to allow her to be admitted into a facility. I hold enduring power of attorney. Doctors argued with me, one more fiercely than the last, but I would not be moved. Alzheimer's had taken so much of her away from me, I couldn't bear for her to be taken in body as she had been in mind. No, I recruited the best specialists in the country to take up residence in the quarters that were once occupied by the late Mrs Jones and Jason Taylor. She had round-the-clock care, no holds barred.

They battled and battled, but now, there's no more that they can do.

She's going to leave me.

She's going to go.

I am surprised by my ability to accept it. But I think I know the reason why. Her slipping away will break what is left of my heart but it will also mean that she will never know another day of pain and confusion, of bewilderment and fear. Her hard-working hands and her life-loving heart will finally be at peace, at rest. When I first met her, I didn't know what love was. I couldn't contemplate it, couldn't countenance it.

But I know better now.

I know so much better.

And I love this woman, this wife of mine. I love her with that enduring passion that saw us through the troubled times. And I love her enough to put her peace before my happiness. I know that when she's gone, I will slip away into nothingness. I know that I will follow her shortly thereafter, that the medication that manages my various heart ailments will falter under the irreparable tear that will rip through my wearied chambers. Her death shall be my death and for that fact, I am bound by gratitude.

A world without her in it, is no world I want to live in.

Our children are strong, wilful people. They've raised strong, wilful people. It will be hard for them, as it was for me when Grace and Carrick left, but they are married to wonderful people. They will be taken care of, they will grieve and adapt, and carry on with their lives. That's my greatest salve. That both my children found, with the warm Sara and stoic Owen respectively, the love that Ana and I raised them with.

They will be fine.

They will soldier on.

Doctor Reinheart walks gravely into the room, to her bedside, to the bedside I have been bound to for the last three days and clears his throat sombrely. He's a good man, a fine man, but I have to bite my lip to hide my grin. Ana and I, on her good days, laughed and laughed at the man's pomposity. He can't even scrawl his signature without sighing a sigh of grandeur. Ana thought he was a riot, often pondering as to how uncomfortable the stick up his ass must _really_ be.

I'll miss her humor.

I'll miss everything about her.

"Mr Grey," he says, gravely, of course. "I am afraid that it will be any moment now. I doubt that she will take from her sleep. She will slip away in the next hour or so. I know we talked about this, but I am still of the opinion that you ought to allow me to administer a mild sedative to aid you through this time of transitional grief."

Her hand is warm in mine as I speak without turning my face from hers.

"No," I say quietly. "No sedative. I want to remember everything."

He sighs, naturally, but nods his reluctant agreement.

"Very well, shall I send in your children and grandchildren in a few minutes?"

I nod, and he leaves.

It's just us again.

In our own little world. She had consecutive bad days before she slipped into her seemingly irreversible sleep. She didn't know me, didn't know the children or the grandchildren. I thought I would get used to her confusion over time, that it would hurt a little less. I was wrong. The heart stabbing pain of explaining to the woman I love who I am never got any easier. The terror I saw in her eyes never got any less painful, less stomach-clenching.

I just wish… before she goes… that she'd know me for the last time.

But that's a pipe dream.

Alzheimer's doesn't grant deathbed wishes.

It's far too cruel for that. It sneaks up on you. When she was first diagnosed, we refused to accept it. We trawled the country for the best doctors, the best clinical trials and came up empty. Hers was an aggressive type, an incurable and unstoppable type. We could only grasp what life was left to us and cherish the memories it garnered. They are some things that love cannot defeat, and neurological disease is one of them.

I close my eyes for a moment and see her in her twenty-one-year-old splendour.

I keep my eyes closed and see in her thirties, forties, fifties, sixties and seventies.

I see our life in technicolour and know without doubt, that we were blessed.

We were heaven blessed.

I open them and with a start that nearly strangles my bleeding heart, I stare into the crystal blue sapphires that are glinting back at me, brimming with the long-lost recognition that I crave, that I dream of. My hand slips in shock but she holds it tight in hers, holds our world in our hands and smiles a small smile that shatters the hold and composure I have on myself.

Tears flow unshed to my eyes.

Her words are like diamonds as they spill from her mouth.

"You know it's time, don't you?"

A searing pain shoots through my throat as I nod slowly.

"Listen to me," she says quietly. "I don't know how much time and lucidity I have, and you need to know this. You and I, we had it all. We had youth and health, passion and pride. We had beautiful children, stunning grandchildren. We saw the world together. We climbed mountains together, moved mountains together. Our lives were something that most people only dream about, or read about. You were my literary classics in real-time, Mr Grey. And from the day I first met you, fifty-nine years ago to now, I've thanked my lucky stars for every minute. Because you saved me from a life I didn't know I was living. Say… say good bye to the children for me, they know all there is to know. I… it's time, Christian, it's time now and I'm at peace. I know you don't believe it, but I know I'll see you one more and we'll be together again, for the eternity that will never be enough. I'll wait for you…"

She squeezes my hand and her blue eyes shutter softly shut for the last time.

Her mouth, her enduringly smart mouth, moves for the very last time.

"I'll be the one in white."

….

A/N: Random one-shot. My on-going. stories will be updated shortly.


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